And the cigarette in my hand has nearly burned down to the filter,
I got caught up in thoughts of you again,
Mulling over all the things I'll never get a chance to say,
The whisky on my breath is a clear indicator that I'm not okay,
Even though I keep saying I am,
I stare at the ceiling,
Wondering where you are and if you're doing okay,
I know I shouldn't think about you,
But I can't help but feel sad about the loss of the boy I once knew,
The ash from this cigarette burns my hand,
It reminds me of how it felt when you were still in my life,
I don't want to remember all the mistakes I made,
And all the beautiful words and phrases I used like knives to cut you down,
These quiet moments send me into a spin,
Or it could be that bottle of whisky I drank,
How ironic that what I use to forget,
Brought you to the forefront of my mind tonight,
I'll turn on my music that you always said you didn't get,
And I'll light another cigarette in hopes that I'll forget everything about you.
By: Alyssa
You write some pretty deep stuff which I always relate to in one way or another.
ReplyDeleteit always happens,
ReplyDeletewhen the booze touches our lips.
the thought of what happened,
or what could have been,
but all we can do is take another sip.
we lie and say we're ok,
we say it to each other and try to believe one another,
though we both know its a bullshit lie,
and we read between the lines.
we tell each other itll be ok,
but its really us telling ourselves?
maybe its time to put it down and go to sleep.
no cause sleep wont come,
put it down and just say the words that wont come.